


Because I'm Worth It

by TheStellarSeacow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Makeup, Welcome to the Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStellarSeacow/pseuds/TheStellarSeacow
Summary: Yuri needs one last thing to complete his ensemble for his Exhibition Skate.





	Because I'm Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> A little drabble because two things I love are Yuri!!! On Ice and shopping for eye shadow.

“Yuri, that’s enough for today!” Yakov called out across the ice at the teenager who had just wrapped up a run thru of his exhibition routine (with music, “if that’s what you could call it”—as the old coach would say). “I want you to get some rest and make sure you have everything packed up for Barcelona—“

The skater just nodded along flipping his hair over his shoulder as he made his way off the rink. He could recite exactly what his couch was telling him by heart. It never changed, and his lack of actually caring and heeding the man’s advice would probably never change as well. “Yeah, I know.” Yuri said with a huff as he placed his guards onto his skates as Yakov began to yell at him, it was like clockwork, “I’ll just do it, so don’t worry.”

His coach just gives up completely and moves on to work with Mila. Yuri headed into the locker room to get himself changed so that he could head back to Lilia’s place to pack up for the trip. It was a pretty straight forward plan and couldn’t go wrong. Plus the lady who’s house he resides in would probably go all out for dinner (she has a habit of making particularly spectacular dinners before they left for competitions—it was the biggest bonus when it came to living with the old hag). 

So as Yuri changed into something else to make his way back to the overly decorated townhouse he currently called home something stopped him and caught his attention. That something was the gray and purple duffle bag of Georgi Popovich sitting on the bench of the locker room. What on earth he was doing there when Yakov’s main focus was on his skaters that had made it to the Grand Prix finals (which Georgi clearly hadn’t) was a bit confusing. But whatever he was doing there, it had triggered a thought in the teenager’s head.

Georgi had a flare for theatrics when it came to costuming; he may not have made it to the Grand Prix finals, but his costume and intensity when performing _Carabosse_ had certainly left an imprint on Yuri’s fifteen-year-old impressionable mind… and with his exhibition skate Yuri wanted to just that too, he wanted to leave the audience in awe. And he was ready to do whatever it took to leave that impression. In his head, the last thing he needed for that was makeup, and the perfect color eyeshadow to go with his costume had come in a pack with the shadow that Georgi had worn with his short program costume. 

And there were a couple of things that Yuri knew about the older skater. The first one was that he was emotionally unstable, the other was that he had a habit of not clearing everything out of his bag (luckily dirty work out clothes were one of the things that he did clear out). So glancing around the locker room Yuri decided he needed to get his hands on that eye shadow.

Carefully he grabbed a hold of his own bag and slid his way over to the bench were Georgi’s bag sat unattended, he looked around again—it was clear no one was there. Yuri unzipped the bag, his breath held hyper aware of the sound that the zipper made as he slid it open. Once the teeth had separated enough for him to fit his hand to fit into the bad he reached in and began to fish around for the little package of makeup that he desired. 

His hand felt over top of fabric that Yuri, while not at all religious nor raised religiously, prayed weren’t his older rink mate’s underwear. He quickly moved his hand over and felt a round metal tube (it was probably hair spray), then another container that was a hard plastic with a bit of give (likely hair gel—if the teenager knew a third thing about Georgi it was that he put way too much effort into his hair), there was a stick of deodorant and a couple of other miscellaneous toiletries. 

There as an inner zipper and that was where Yuri headed to next. He undid that zipper as well and reached inside. The first thing he felt as he slipped his hand into the inner zipper was something hard and square. Yuri took in a sharp celebratory breath. Had it really been this easy? Had he really found the makeup that easily? 

“Yes” he said pulling it out excitedly… only to be horribly disappointed. Instead it was a framed photograph of Anya. Yuri let out a disappoint half shriek before jamming the photography back into the pocket he had pulled it out of. 

He committed himself to finding it again. He felt another smooth plastic square and pulled that out. This time, victory was his. He pulled the container out and was elated to find the four shades of eyeshadow, the deep gray Georgi had smeared over his eyelids, a deep purple, a pearly white, and the bright shimmery magenta that Yuri had had his eye on. Quickly Yuri shoved it into his own backpack and zipped everything of Georgi’s again. And moved away from the bag.

Feeling accomplished at his thieving, Yuri stood up, adjusted his bag and headed home.


End file.
